


Quarantine

by MelGibsonRageFace



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelGibsonRageFace/pseuds/MelGibsonRageFace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a mission, a large group of First Order personnel are exposed to sex pollen. Phasma recruits Kylo, who has not been compromised, to make sure nobody leaves the room nor does anything stupid until the effects pass. </p><p>Hux might be enjoying it a bit too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the kink meme. [Full prompt here or in end notes](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=9418105#cmt9418105)

Her cloak was missing. Her cloak was missing, and as soon as Kylo noticed this, he felt his heartbeat pick up in his ribcage.

 

“Lord Ren,” said Captain Phasma, as if keeping her voice low could conceal the aura of excitement that clung to her like stench rising from a corpse. There was fear on her, fear inside her—but there was something else, too, a kind of anticipation not unlike the feelings that rose from her before combat.

 

And then there was the other presence. Phasma was standing before him at the head of her company of shock troopers, and Kylo could feel their imprints on the Force just as clearly as he could see them in their neat formation. They were there, they were before him. They were human.

 

The other presence was something else.

 

“Captain Phasma,” Kylo said when he reached her. The other presence was strong here—it seemed to be somehow physically attached to the Stormtrooper Commander. “You requested my personal aid.”

 

She had requested more than his aid—she had requested that he meet her in his shuttle, unaccompanied, on a derelict freighter that had been caught in an asteroid's orbit for probably decades. She'd gotten the life support systems restarted.

 

“We have a problem,” Phasma said, more emotion in her voice than he'd ever heard with her mask on. The spike of fear in her emotions sharpened; she was recalling a moment of combat. “You recall that we were en route to a negotiation with--”

 

“With the TynaCorp representatives,” Kylo replied. “I am familiar with the mission.” He bristled, remembering Hux's condescending explanation, his imperious tone, the way he rolled his eyes as if trying to teach something to a vexingly stupid child.

 

Phasma nodded. “We had to take evasive action to avoid a Republic patrol,” she said. “We landed on a planet that was said to be sparsely inhabited.”

 

The fear rising from Phasma darkened somehow, became somewhat sticky. She didn't want to give him this explanation. This explanation was tied to her strange, eager excitement—and to the other presence surrounding hers.

 

“Yes,” Kylo said.

 

“Our sensors indicated that the atmosphere was breathable, and General Hux ordered that a party disembark to check the shuttle for damages,” Phasma said. “Our sensors _failed_ to indicate that the air was saturated with a chemical agent produced by the local flora.”

 

“I see,” said Kylo. “And the General fought hard before succumbing to the lethal--”

 

“Hux is alive,” Phasma said. “And the pollen's effects are not lethal.” She cleared her throat behind her voice filter. “However, Lord Ren, when the effects kick in, everyone who was aboard our shuttle will be incapacitated for up to ten hours.”

 

“Incapacitated can mean a lot of things, Captain,” Kylo said.

 

“In this case, Lord Ren,” Phasma said, “Uh, the chemical agent will cause us to lose control of certain urges.” She cleared her throat. “For eight to ten hours, we will all be so strongly compelled to, ah, copulate that any attempt to stop us will result in severe physical damage.”

 

Kylo choked back a burst of laughter. “You can't be serious,” he said.

 

“I'm perfectly serious, Lord Ren,” said Phasma. “General Hux insists that he will be able to restrain himself, but I've seen this before.”

 

Was that why that little stream of excitement grew brighter in her feelings when she recalled the memory? Kylo was tempted to reach out, to see what exactly Phasma knew of the effects of this chemical.

 

“You must understand, Lord Ren,” Phasma continued. “I have no problem executing the affected Stormtroopers, but General Hux's and several senior officers' behavior will _also_ be compromised, and we _cannot_ afford to lose them or have anyone else in the First Order discover what happened here today.”

 

“And what part did you think I would play in this...poisoning, Captain?” Kylo said.

 

There was no spike of eagerness, no rush of desire that he had become so used to detecting in Hux's anger.

 

“I need you to make sure none of us leave this ship until we have...come to our senses,” Phasma said. “You may kill Stormtroopers, but I need to ensure that neither Hux nor any of his bridge crew are...harmed.”

 

“I thought this agent was nonlethal,” said Kylo.

 

“The chemical itself is, eventually, harmless in a physical sense,” said Phasma. “You'll soon see the risks that come with exposure.”

 

“Will I--” Kylo's concentration was interrupted when one of the Stormtroopers behind Phasma removed her helmet. She was a hatchet-faced woman, one of the older ones, thick-necked, with brown hair about due to be buzzed back to regulation.  She grabbed at the helmet of one of the other troopers.

 

The other one shoved her away—but the one she fell into held on to her with one hand while he pulled his helmet off with the other.

 

“Hey!” Phasma roared, running back to separate them. “Squadron, you will return to the quarantine area before I am forced to execute all of—RT-3487, that is _enough_.” She gave the woman a hearty shove forward across the landing deck.

 

Kylo followed her through the dark, cavernous rooms that made up the freighter's interior. They must have been using the backup generators – there was only a dim light in here, and the shadows cast every surface and every line into sharp relief.

 

Phasma keyed a code in to open a pair of blast doors. She led her squad and Kylo into a large rectangular room with low ceilings. Judging by the furniture, it had been used as some kind of recreation area.

 

And that was certainly one way to describe its present use, as well. Kylo was accustomed to scanning rooms for movement, to rapidly and accurately assessing who was where, and what they were doing.

 

Here, though, his assessment stopped at Lieutenant Mitaka.

 

The young bridge officer was not the only player in the scene, here, but he was the one Kylo knew, and it was his face Kylo recognized contorted with desire as he clung to the back of an armchair. Behind him, two men in Stormtroopers' undershirts were fighting over who got to control his hips. Both were penetrating him; at first, they took turns, one of them fucking the younger man's ass for a few seconds while the other one stroked his own shaft.

 

But the taller of the two men soon grew impatient, started trying to nudge the shorter one aside. The shorter one grappled with him for a second, then pulled him close in a kiss while the taller one eased his cock into Mitaka's already stretched asshole.

 

The young man moaned, thrusting his pale ass back against the two men enjoying him as they enjoyed each other. His feelings were wild, intense—Kylo had never felt such pure, raw ecstasy come from someone before. It drew him closer to the chair Mitaka was now biting, his eyes shut and his bare back rigid as he let the troopers use him. There was something so _alive_ about this sensation, so _vital_. Something within Kylo made him want to consume it somehow, devour it and live on it as sith were said to do in ancient times.

 

But there was something else he could feel now—something familiar. A kind of reluctance he knew so well. A need for control he'd felt so often.

 

Hux was here, Kylo knew. And he was probably getting his dick sucked.

 

Kylo stood up straight, scanned the room. The chemical agent had clearly begun to take effect. Even Phasma, he could see, had succumbed to its effects: she was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, one of her female Stormtroopers straddling her face while another woman laid her armor in a pile beside her.

 

One of the deck commanders grabbed the woman who was taking Phasma's armor off, pushed her down giggling into a chair while he unfastened his breeches.

 

Similar scenes were unfolding throughout the room – tangles of two or three officers and Stormtroopers, undressing each other with hands and mouths as the pollen spurred them into depravity. There were not enough couches and chairs for every cluster of bodies, and several people were content to fuck on the floor.

 

It would appear that Hux was one of them. He was on his back, naked save for his undershirt and his tags, his hair a mess. One of the deck officers—Unamo, her name was—was astride him, her dark hair fallen to her shoulders and her eye pencil smudged and her head rolling side to side as she fucked her commander.

One of Hux's thin, strong hands was grasping her ass; the other toyed with one of Unamo's round, pink breasts as the woman bounced and squealed atop him. He was staring up at her, his eyes intense, his lip caught between his teeth, his fingers digging into the deck officer's flesh.

 

There was something sickening about watching him fuck someone else—watching his back arch, watching his neck muscles twitch and relax as he ground this woman's hips against his cock. Kylo's anger spiked hot and sharp within him as he watched the General shove Unamo off him, grapple her onto her hands and knees. She moaned like a beast in heat when he thrust his cock inside her again, pulled her close to him by her skinny thighs as he pumped his cock into her.

 

Had they agreed to this? Had they decided, if they were going to lose control of their carnal urges, that they may as well disgrace themselves with someone they had a prior relationship?

 

 _Did_ they have a prior relationship?

 

Kylo's heartbeat quickened; for a moment, he reached out with his mind, trying to detect if Hux had been lying to him, if there was any real relationship behind his frantic coupling with one of his deck commanders.

 

But the General's mind—and the officer's mind, too—was so flooded with basic, carnal feelings, disorganized and shapeless, that Kylo had no idea whether Hux and Unamo had wanted to do this for months.

 

A flash of rage warmed Kylo's mind again—Hux was _his_ , Hux belonged to _him_ , and he had every right to kill anyone else who touched him. He ought to kill Unamo _now,_ she had touched Hux and Hux belonged to _him_ , he ought to reach out with the force and squeeze and squeeze and--

 

Phasma's voice came to him again, fearful and strained. Nobody else, she'd said. Nobody else in the First Order can know about this.

 

If Kylo hurt any of the deck crew, the secret would get out. Snoke would find out. Hux would be taken away from him, more likely than not. Taken away for good, and Kylo would be able to do nothing about it.

 

Kylo flexed his fingers as he watched Hux pull his cock out of Unamo, watched him bury his face in the wet mess between the woman's legs. She cried out with her eyes shut; he stroked his slick, wet cock up and down while she shrieked with pleasure.

 

“Fuck me in the ass,” she began to groan. “Please, sir, fuck me in the--”

 

But before Hux could straighten up to grant her wish, another Stormtrooper came up behind him and picked him up by one arm.

 

The General stiffened for a moment, but instead of indignation at being roughly hauled to his feet and turned around by a mere Stormtrooper, he regarded the bigger man with breathless curiosity. Hux's cock was hard and wet, and now precum dripped to the floor as the broad blond looked him over.

 

“So pretty,” the Stormtrooper said, pushing Hux down to his knees. He was completely naked, and his cock was even larger than Kylo's. Hux took it eagerly in his mouth, and the Stormtrooper twisted his thick fingers through his ginger hair and shoved him down on it so hard he gagged.

 

Hux did not fight; he did not try to stand up, demand to know what the Stormtrooper thought he was doing. Instead, he _moaned—_ actually let out a stifled, wavering wail of pleasure as he took the Stormtrooper's cock all the way into his throat. His thin hands clutched at the larger man's ass, and for a few moments he opened his mouth to lick his impressive cock up and down while he made noises Kylo had never heard from him before.

 

He realized his own cock was responding to the sight of Hux worshipping this Stormtrooper's shaft with his mouth. The Stormtrooper was right—Hux was pretty, and to see his pretty mouth so eagerly lapping at a long, thick cock was enough to make Kylo ache with the wish that it was _his_ cock Hux was treating so well.

 

And the _sounds—_ the sounds he was making were beautiful in their obscenity. When he was with Kylo, he never made those sounds. When he was with Kylo, he might grunt quietly, he might hum softly while he was sucking his dick, so that Kylo groaned and clutched his hair and made Hux feel that surge of cold, clean pride that _he_ was not such a needy degenerate. When he was with Kylo, Hux was in control. Hux was in command—and Kylo never did anything to make that feeling waver.

 

It wasn't fair, he thought. It wasn't fair that this Stormtrooper (who he could execute, if he wanted—Phasma said) had him on his knees, eyes shut, groaning with desire while his swollen cock dripped. The Stormtrooper was nothing. He was a big cock, an impressive body.

 

But as Hux came, collapsing onto all fours while his cock spurted onto the floor, Kylo could feel his throat burn with anger. He could do nothing; his job was to prevent these people coming to harm, not make an even bigger mess to clean up once the chemical wore off.

 

That was why he stood still, Kylo told himself, as the Stormtrooper grabbed Hux and hauled him to his feet. He had him by his hips, this time, with his ass upturned.

 

The General should be glad, Kylo thought, that Kylo was not always gentle with him when they were together. The Stormtrooper certainly had no care for gentleness as he rubbed some spit on the head of his cock and began thrusting it into Hux.

 

For a split second, Kylo swore the Stormtrooper looked up at him, thought he looked him in the eye as the head of his cock breached Hux's asshole. Surely, Kylo was imagining things—imagining the smug half-smirk on the big man's square face, imagining the mockery dancing in his eyes.

 

No, the only one taunting Kylo, the only one saying _look at this pathetic man, this ugly, helpless creature, hard as a rock while he watches his General get fucked in the ass by a no-account stormtrooper_ , the only one saying that was Kylo.

 

He told himself this, over and over again, and it did not help. Hux was still hard, and his orgasm had not made his moaning any quieter. He was grinding his ass against the Stormtrooper, stroking his own cock with both hands, since the Stormtrooper's thick arms were holding him bodily up off the floor.

 

Kylo had never seen the General relaxed like this, had never seen him release the tension that held his entire being together and just surrender like this. He was slack in the Stormtrooper's grip, concerned only with his own pleasure as the bigger man used him like a wet rag. His eyes were shut, and his tongue protruded between his pretty lips ever so slightly.

 

Apparently, Kylo was not the only one preoccupied by that beautiful mouth. One of the deck officers, a tall man with greying hair and a thin face, walked up to Hux where he was impaled upon his Stormtrooper. He picked Hux's face up by the chin, smiled down at him as he stroked his cheek with the hand that wasn't tugging at his cock. Hux rolled his green eyes up to meet the other man's gaze.

 

“You know what to do, sir,” he growled down at his commander.

 

Without a word, Hux opened his mouth and took the older man's cock in—the Stormtrooper had schooled him well, and he choked on its shaft for a couple seconds before he settled in and began sucking in earnest. He moaned with enthusiasm, stretching his slender body between the two men who were fucking him.

 

The Stormtrooper let out a sharp, loud grunt as he came in Hux's ass, gripped his hips a little tighter and thrust into him a little harder. Hux, too, cried out, the sound muffled by the cock he had jammed into his mouth.

 

The noise caught the attention of a pair of young deck officers  who were busying their mouths on a Stormtrooper's breasts while their hands played with her pussy and ass. They abandoned the panting, groaning young woman and approached Hux like a pair of predators moving in on wounded prey.

 

“Give him to us,” said the blond, “if you're done with him--”

 

“I'm not done with him yet,” the Stormtrooper snapped, though the rhythm of his hips was slowing and he looked like he was tiring.

 

 

“Take a break,” said the dark-haired officer. “Go try the girl out.” He grabbed the Stormtrooper and pulled him out of Hux.

 

“I'll try _you--_ ”

 

But the blond man shoved him away, and the dark-haired one was slicking his cock with one hand while he teased Hux's ass and balls with the other.

 

“That's a lot of cum he left in you, sir,” he leaned down to murmur in Hux's ear. “You're going to be full up by the time we're all through with you.” He had the head of his cocked lodged in the cusp of Hux's ass; he was pushing into him while Hux groaned on the older officer's cock.

 

The blond laughed. “I don't think he can wait,” he said. “You'd better hurry and cum in him so I can--”

 

“Hurry?” The dark-haired man was all the way inside Hux now; he was raking his commander's back with his fingernails with a feral grin on his face. “He's slick enough to take you and me, if you're not too nervous--”

 

“Kiss my ass, Algarak--”

 

“I will, if you bend over,” the dark-haired officer said.

 

Algarak rolled his eyes and shoved his friend to the side so he could get to Hux's ass.

 

Kylo forced himself to take a step backwards. He was shocked at how difficult it was, how much of his training he had to use to separate instinct from duty. Snoke, who loved him like his own son, had seen to it that his instinct _was_ his duty, or at least close to it, for most of his tasks—he had very rarely had instructions that deviated from his desires.

 

Snoke loves you like a son, Kylo told himself. He loves you like a son and you can't betray him now, can't reach out with the Force and destroy these leering, laughing boys. Even as they treat him like a cheap plaything to be fought over, even as they delight in the awkwardness of their attempts to fit their cocks in him side-by side, you cannot touch them.

 

You can only watch, Kylo told himself, and this temporary helplessness fell heavy on him like a collapsing building.

 

Hux's mouth was still full of the older man's cock, but the young officers using his ass had made him straddle the dark-haired one while the light-haired one eased into him from behind. His pale body was slick with sweat—the pale one was pulling his undershirt off his narrow, wiry chest.

 

To get the shirt off all the way, the deck officer had to pull Hux back by his hair, leave the older man's cock slick and swollen in the chilly air of this rec room. Too impatient to let his shaft go unstimulated even for those brief moments while the young men finished disrobing Hux, the older officer began stroking himself, moving closer to Hux as his face contorted with pleasure.

 

He never let Kylo cum on him like that. He would swallow, he would let him cum inside him, but Hux demanded order and dignity in all things. He seemed vaguely disgusted by his own semen; to see him lean back, open-mouthed, while the gray-haired man painted his face with glistening streams of cum, was so strange and so new that Kylo was transfixed.

 

Who is he, Kylo asked himself, that he is allowed to push Hux's forehead back and soil his face like that? His face and form were familiar—he was a warrant officer, one of the comm crew's shift leaders on the _Finalizer—_ but Kylo had never seen Hux speak a word to him except in professional acknowledgement.

 

And now he was on his knees, his hand on his cock, his ass being stretched open by the two men fucking him from behind, _begging_ for more.

 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” he was moaning, lapping the cum from his lips. “I want more--”

 

The older man had backed away, his eyes scanning the room as if he were confused by something, but Hux did not notice. A Stormtrooper had walked up and grabbed him by his hair, forced two fingers between Hux's jaws to open his mouth wide so he could fuck his face.

 

Kylo realized he had backed up against some kind of bar top. Phasma was lying on her back at the other end, the center of a swarm of giggling, moaning women who covered her skin in kisses and bite marks as they all vied to be the one with her face buried between the Stormtrooper Commander's thighs. Kylo heard her laugh, a raucous and joyful sound he didn't think could come from his dour co-commander.

 

Why could he watch her like this—back twisting in time to whatever Unamo was doing to her with her tongue, eyes rolling back in her head, fingers buried deep inside a blonde Stormtrooper's pussy—and feel nothing but awkward arousal? Why did he only feel anger jolt through his veins when he turned his gaze back to Hux?

 

(There was so much anger—so much more than he had expected. The Stormtrooper had turned to call to some of his comrades. Two men and a woman picked themselves off a couch. They had that look in their eyes, that hungry look as they approached Hux.)

 

Kylo gripped the barstool behind him. He couldn't touch any of these people, couldn't harm them, couldn't stop them from filling the need that this bizarre chemical had awakened in them. Through the Force he could feel the thrum of lust filling the room, a wordless and feral din of feelings that made Kylo's head hurt. He had to distract himself, had to focus on something besides the dull, overbearing ache of the emotions surrounding him.

 

At least his rage was coherent. At least he could center himself on the anger that filled him when he watched Hux, sticky with sweat and semen, grinding his narrow hips atop the young deck officer while the other one grappled with the Stormtrooper for control of his wiry body.

 

All the while, he kept rubbing himself with both hands, his rhythm getting faster as his body's movements became twitchier and more violent. When he came for a second time, he tipped his head back, releasing the Stormtrooper's thick cock from his mouth while he shot glistening streams of cum onto the officer beneath him.

 

The Stormtrooper growled, a frustrated frown on his face as he picked up where Hux had left off. With his free hand, he held the General in place by his throat, squeezing on his jaw so Hux's mouth was forced open as he, too, reached orgasm. His companions laughed at the way Hux moaned as a second man's cum soiled his face.

 

The deck officer who'd been fucking him from behind had a slightly different idea. He pulled out of Hux's ass and began jerking himself, aiming his cock at his commander's back so that when he came, he marred the General's freckled shoulders with his spunk.

 

Kylo's grip on the barstool behind him tightened as he realized that Hux was becoming the center of a frenzy. The Stormtrooper's companions didn't even take the time to penetrate his stretched, sticky asshole—they stood around him stimulating themselves, too turned on by the General's humiliation to take part in it themselves.

 

That's mine, Kylo kept thinking to himself, the words repeating like a metronome in his brain. He is _mine_ , he is _mine_ , he is _mine_ , and they are _ruining him—_ and Hux was adoring every second, stretching his back out as if to provide a bigger target for the men who crowded around him like he was a pornographic holoreel playing on a shared datatab. He never moaned like this for Kylo, never prostrated himself with his ass in the air and his fingers clutching at the slick floor.

 

He never let Kylo just _have_ him, just play with him—but now he had rolled over onto his back, his cock still hard and now raw from all the friction he had subjected it to. The female Stormtrooper wasted no time in taking advantage of this position; she shoved an officer out of the way so she could straddle Hux's hips, ease him inside her while she released a feral yowl from her throat.

 

Even as she offered her breasts up to one of the half-dozen officers who were now surrounding Hux, cocks out and hands busied, another Stormtrooper shoved her roughly down onto Hux so he could take her in the ass. The General was quieted for a moment by her voluminous breasts, one of which he began to lick and suckle while he needed the other with his hands.

 

The anger pulsing through Kylo's veins was now met with another feeling—a kind of sadness, a kind of emptiness that begged to be filled. The woman straddling Hux was no beauty: sickly pale and scarred from head to toe, with jagged teeth and no ass to speak of. It was painful to see Hux be so consumed with her, so eager to explore her body, so shameless in kissing and nibbling her corrugated skin.

 

He wanted to destroy her, he thought ( _but also_ , said a voice within him, _I want to be her)._

No. No, he told himself. There was no need, no call. What had the Stormtrooper taken from him? A mere toy, Kylo told himself, a cheap plaything he had once mistaken for some kind of treasure to be jealously guarded.

 

 _But he's yours_ , insisted that part of his brain he could never silence. _He's yours, and you're letting these depraved animals ruin him._

Hux's skin glistened with sweat and with saliva and with cum. His head lolled on the floor, his mouth open as his hips pumped and thrusted of their own accord.

 

 _And you want to be one of them_ , his mind continued. _You want to walk up to them and push Vallodon aside, you want to be part of this, but you won't._

But he was not his thoughts, Kylo reminded himself. He was not his thoughts, and he was more than his cock aching with desire beneath his robes, and he wanted nothing less than to submit to his body like this. He could not—he did not want to touch himself, did not want to take back what was his, remind Hux of who he belonged to.

 

And yet. And yet he watched, fascinated, while Hux's hands (his long, delicate fingers, which Kylo thought were his alone to draw into his mouth) teased at the Stormtrooper's pussy until a shrieking orgasm went coursing up her spine. And yet he reached out (gently, absentmindedly, the way he did when he passed Hux in the hallways) with the Force, skimmed the feelings from the top of Hux's mind.

 

He had never felt joy there like this—unbridled, untempered, as pure as the will of an ancient sith. Something in Hux's nature would not yield to Kylo, would not show itself to him no matter how carefully and deeply Kylo probed. No, he only ever tolerated Kylo, tolerated his touch and his kiss and the rigid bulk of his cock.

 

And Kylo had long suspected that there was something dishonest in his tolerance. He'd long suspected that the General's silence contained secrets that Kylo could not reveal without breaking him. He'd long suspected that Hux appealed to him _because_ of that dishonesty—a lie he could feel but not see, a secret he had not yet discovered.

 

He never knew what he wanted to find in Hux—but now, as he watched the General get back up on his knees to take Mitaka's dripping cock into his mouth, he was certain that he had wanted to be the first to find it.

 

It was sickening, in a way, to watch the young man smile down at Hux and murmur something to him. He was, as far as Kylo knew, a minor functionary—a Lieutenant who ran errands on the bridge. But what _did_ Kylo know? What _had_ Hux been hiding from him?

 

 _They could have been fucking three times a day and you would not have noticed_ , said that insidious part of his mind that seemed to feed off the wretched, betrayed feeling that was eating at Kylo like acid. _You think only of yourself, you flatter yourself, you arrogant fool, you are weak in the Force and now your weakness shows itself, you could never have him, he could never want you, not by yourself. You could never satisfy--_

 

A cry of pleasure and shock from down the bar drew Kylo's focus. One of the women surrounding Phasma was crouched on a barstool, presenting her pussy to her commander. Phasma had her hand buried inside the other Stormtrooper well past her wrist; two bridge officers were now attending to her pussy while another Stormtrooper sat astride her face.

 

Her feelings, too, were running hot and high and pure—ecstasy concentrated to metal-etching strength. Kylo picked at his jealously like a scab, trying to aggravate the same nerve that was so pained by the sight of Hux. She only smiled for you, he reminded himself. You were _her_ friend, she's yours, she's yours and they're touching--

 

Across the room, Hux cried out, and Kylo snapped his gaze around to see what had caused the disturbance. If they had hurt him--

 

 _Everything you love gets taken away from you_ , he thought. _They are taking him and they are breaking him and they are putting their mark on him and making him theirs, and there is nothing you will do about it, because you are weak._

He felt the urge to deny that thought, felt that somehow someone else was accusing him—accusing him of what?

 

 _You like this_ , he thought. _It feels so right—watching them take him away from you, watching them make him their little plaything, he will never be the same for you, now that you know._

He could not deny the excitement that filled him as he watched them ruin Hux. He was bent over a chair, his face buried in a Stormtrooper's pussy, while men waited impatiently to fuck his ass one or two at a time. There were maybe half a dozen of them, Stormtroopers and officers, occupying themselves with each other while their companions took their turns with the General.

 

 _This is what has ensnared your love_ , he thought to himself. _A cheap amusement, to be used and enjoyed and then passed on to whoever wants it next. Disposable._

 

Kylo was no longer sure how many men had spilled their semen in Hux's ass or on his freckled back. His moaning was getting louder as his underlings took their turns filling him with cock, each one fucking him harder than the last. It was as if they were playing a game, to see who could make the General moan the loudest or clutch the hardest at the chair they had him on.

 

Kylo was certain he could feel a kind of malicious glee running through the group. Perhaps they knew, somewhere deep below the chemical rush driving their lust, that they were disgracing the man who held their lives in his fists. The man who had controlled their every breath now controlled nothing—not whose sex his mouth was servicing, not whose cock he ground his hips against. He was powerless, and having become powerless he had finally become free, and for a moment Kylo envied him, sprawled out with his legs spread as a small mob took their time fucking him.

 

 _You could be watching Phasma instead_ , he thought. _You've thought about fucking her before, thought about getting her alone. It would be so easy. Nobody would believe her._

Nobody would believe Hux, either, Kylo had thought. Nobody would believe him, and he was too proud to admit what he'd done. He'd thought. He was so easy. So convenient. So proud, even when he knew he could never escape Kylo.

 

Kylo had thought.

 

The boy Mitaka seemed to take particular satisfaction in making Hux take his cock as deep as it would go. He was having his ass now, picking him up by the hips and pounding at him as fast as his thin legs could thrust. Kylo knew that gleam in his eyes. He knew what it was to take something back, to get some kind of revenge on a weakling who would be your master.

 

And how weak, _how_ weak, Hux had become. His green eyes were glazed over with chemical lust; his jaw hung slack as his subordinate spread his skinny legs and stuffed himself all the way inside him. His voice spilled from his throat in languid, shapeless groans that made Kylo's hands tighten into fists of their own accord.

 

When a Stormtrooper took Hux's cock in his mouth, Kylo's rage spiked—he had taken two long strides toward the group before he remembered how to stop himself.

 

That's mine, he thought. That's mine—that belongs to _me_.

 

He envisioned himself walking across the room, removing his helmet, and pulling the Stormtrooper off of Hux. The General was his, and his alone--

 

\-- _but he is not,_ he thought to himself. _He is a shared set of holes, a game kept in common storage to be taken out and played by whoever has free time._ Though the thought repulsed Kylo, something deep inside him knew it to be the purest of truths. _You thought he was worthy, thought you had brought a powerful man into your bed_ , he thought. _You were wrong. You were wrong, wrong, wrong--_

 

Worthlessness attracted worthlessness, Kylo knew. A broken, pathetic man could only take another creature like himself, could only find himself entangled with another cheap tool.

 

What would Kylo do, to stop the Stormtrooper rolling his tongue around Hux's cock? What would Kylo do, to stop Mitaka's feral grinning as he took his turn violating his squealing commander who dripped with the cum of a dozen men?

 

He would do nothing, not even rub his swollen-stiff cock beneath his robes, because nothing was all he was good at. And he liked it that way. It made his cock pulse with blood to think of how useless he was in this moment, how pathetically unable he was to reclaim Hux's body for himself. Every derisive laugh from a subordinate, every plea for more that left the General's lips—it mocked Kylo, reminded him cruelly of his place in the world.

 

He might as well be in Hux's place, Kylo thought, and the temptation to rub at his cock grew almost overwhelming. He might as well be held down, bent over, subjected to the whims of whoever was next in line.

 

 _You think you're in his position?_ His mind said to him. _You think you're even equivalent to this cum-soaked toy who was once a man of the Order, a respected Commander? You think a man of the Order would stoop so low in the first place as to stand by and watch while these lowly creatures violate his lover?_

 

They were fighting over him. The Stormtroopers were fighting over the man who held their lives, their names, their very existence in the palms of his sweaty hands. They were fighting over him, and instead of fighting back he was squirming, slack-jawed and red-cheeked, his glazed eyes flittering from face to face as if unable to decide whose cock he wanted more in the moment.

 

 _Look at you_ , he thought to himself. _Look at you standing there, pathetic—you pretend as if you are not aroused, are not engorged. You pretend you do not want to touch yourself, gratify yourself to the sight of your own humiliation, you wretched, crawling pervert._

 

Phasma had not told him, before she had succumbed to the pollen's effects, whether or not Kylo would contaminate himself if he removed any of his clothing. For a brief fraction of a moment he contemplated what it would be like, to be among them, to be released, to be madly driven to fuck and to be fucked by whoever was closest.

 

But imagining the shame—imagining the thoughts that would torment him afterward, the memories Master Snoke would pry from his brain—imagining the after-effects was more than enough to convince him that he was better off fulfilling Phasma's last coherent request.

 

He forced himself to take a step backward, toward the bar. Away from Hux, who was now on his back, fingers clutching the arm of the chair he was lying on as a Stormtrooper spread his legs. His eyes were closed—clenched tight, as if he were struggling to endure whatever emotions were flooding him while he clasped his bony ankles behind the bigger man's neck.

 

Kylo could not resist the urge to reach out with the Force, to get a brief glance at the feelings rising from the General like fever heat. When he did, he froze mid-step. The warm, jubilant ecstasy that had emanated from Phasma—freedom, comfort, the thick and sturdy kind of companionship that Stormtroopers were forbidden from recognizing as love—was nowhere to be found in Hux's feelings. Instead, there was confusion, need, a pleasurable but undeniable kind of fear at something new (Kylo remembered flying lessons, remembered the first time he went through hyperspace).

 

Hux was lost, Kylo realized. He was lost, and he was afraid that he was on the verge of something wonderful he did not understand, did not know how to accept.

 

The Stormtrooper, finished with Hux for the time being, withdrew his cock and handed the General over to one of his deck officers. Hux cried out as the older man bent him over and thrust his cock roughly inside him, one hand around his neck, as if taking out some old grudge.

 

Kylo wondered again how much of their ordinary, day-to-day mindsets they were retaining under the influence of this chemical. What memories were informing their actions now? What memories of today would haunt them in the future? Would they--

 

“Ren.”

 

Kylo's mind quieted for a moment, focused only on the question of whether he'd really just heard Hux call his name.

 

“Ple—please,” Hux panted. He still had his eyes shut  “Ren— _Ren--”_

He realized he was holding his breath. His eyes were locked on the red-haired man who was struggling to keep his grip on the chair as his underling fucked him. Kylo could feel the desperation, could feel a gaping, hollow need that matched his in that moment.

 

Kylo walked forward. As he neared the General, he raised his head and blinked a few times, as if his vision were blurred. Maybe it was. Kylo could gather from Hux's overall confusion that his senses were distorted: some perceptions were muted, and others amplified beyond anything Kylo had experienced with his normal senses. Just touching his thoughts was electrifying. Kylo was almost afraid to reach out and cup the General's chin in his hand.

 

When he did, Hux stared up at him; recognition flickered in his glassy green eyes, and relief, as if Kylo had somehow rescued him.

 

“Ren,” he said, oblivious for a moment to the old man ramming his cock into him from behind. “You're—you've come--”

 

“I'm here to guard you,” Kylo replied. “I can't—I can't remove my mask.”

 

“The chemical,” Hux groaned. “I—I can't stop--”

 

“I know.” Kylo knelt down so that his face was level with Hux's. “I can feel it.”

 

His body stiffened as Hux reached forward, clasped his shoulders with his glistening, wiry arms  and bracing himself against Kylo's shoulders. He was repulsed for a moment—he could feel the force of the deck officer's hips as he pumped his cock into Hux's ass; he could see the fluids of at least half a dozen of his subordinates smeared across his pale skin.

 

Though he could not, would not partake in this chemical-fueled fucking, Kylo knew he was somehow a part of it.

 

 _You're a prop_ , he thought to himself. _A prop, nothing more dignified than a piece of furniture to fuck on. Who is this worm, who thinks he can let a man fuck him upon Kylo Ren's shoulders as he were a mere object?_

 

He could feel rage rise in him again, feel the urge to pick Hux up by his head, to snap his neck and feel his spine separate between his hands. He had done it before, to other men. To lesser men. He could--

 

But Hux opened his mouth again, as this old man used his ass for his own wanton pleasure, and he said, “Ren,” as if the name were a prayer.

 

“Ren,” he repeated. “ _Ren--”_

 

He buried his head in the crook of Kylo's neck, panting from exhaustion and from the mind-straining rush of sensation that Kylo couldn't avoid feeling with Hux so close to him. He was enjoying himself, in a way—but the experience was overwhelming for a man who seldom allowed himself to experience normal amounts of delight.

 

And still, Kylo could pick up the sense of being lost, of needing something he couldn't find. It was lessened, now, but it was still there, still yearning.

 

“Ren--”

 

“I'm here,” Kylo said. He didn't know what else he should say. A thought occurred to him, an urge that rose straight from his aching-hard cock. “I'm here, Hux. I've seen every second of this.”

 

The General had nothing to say to that except a faint moan that sounded a little like a question.

 

“I've seen every second,” Kylo repeated. “I've watched your deck crew get in line to have a chance to fuck the great General Hux, and I've watched them have you, one by one, while you begged them for more,” he said. Hux had his arms pinned in such a position that he couldn't even try to rub his cock through his robes; all he could do was sort of shift, which only made him ache more with desire.

 

“You watched,” Hux murmured. His voice was thin, strained, weaker than Kylo had ever heard it.

 

“You wanted me to see,” said Kylo. “Didn't you? You wanted me to see my General get passed around by his own soldiers.” Something about putting words to what he had seen was agonizing, thrilling in its own disgusting way. “You wanted me to see a mere Stormtrooper reduce you to a wet mess, groaning like a whore while he covered your pretty face in cum.”

 

“You saw,” he said. He was squirming in the officer's grip, grinding shamelessly against his thinning hips. “You saw them—you saw them have me--”

 

“Of course I did,” said Kylo. “That's why Phasma called me to guard you while the pollen took effect. I already know what a wretched slut you are, Hux.”

 

“I am,” he groaned, his voice jagged.

 

“Tell him to fuck you harder,” Kylo said, not sure why it made him shudder with desire. “Tell that man to fuck you harder, _please_.”

 

Hux clutched him tighter as he turned his head to the man who was thrusting into his upraised ass. “Fuck me harder,” he said. “Harder—please, please, Major, fuck me harder.”

 

The older man's face contorted into an ugly grin. “As you say, sir,” he said, picking up the pace and intensity of his thrusts.

 

“Good boy,” Kylo said to the General as he groaned and braced himself against his shoulders. “What a good, obedient boy you are, begging your underling to fuck you harder.”

 

Again, Hux had nothing to say in reply. Kylo ran one of his hands over his back; shuddering briefly with disgust at how slick he found it.

 

 _They've ruined him_ , he thought to himself. _They've ruined him for you and soiled him for you and you'll never be able to forget this, never, he's filthy, he's filthy and you'll never clean him now no matter how you try. He's filthy, and he's ruined and he'll never be--_

 

“You'll never rise above this,” Kylo blurted. “Never,” he said. “They'll all know what I know about you, General,” he said. “They'll all know what a good boy you are, how eager you are to debase yourself for the feeling of a thick cock in your ass.”

 

“I am--”

 

“You're nothing but my greedy little slut,” Kylo said, “And they all know it now—they all know whose lap you sit in when the day is done,” he said. “They all know whose cock you need more than anyone else's.”

 

“It's yours, Ren,” Hux whined. “I need your cock--”

 

“I know you do,” Kylo said. “You'll have it,” he said. “Soon enough.”

 

The old Major finished in him with a few hard pumps of his hips; another Stormtrooper was next to have the honor of violating the General. Kylo kept running his hand up and down his back (his filthy, filthy back—he would have to clean him before he took him, would have to wash the glistening mess off of him, would have to make him pure again before he had his way) while the Stormtrooper ran his long, thick cock up and down the cleft of Hux's ass.

 

“Do you want him inside you?” Kylo murmured, just loud enough for his vocoder to pick it up.

 

“I do,” Hux replied, and Kylo delighted in the feelings of shame that rose up in him as he whined. “Oh, please, let him fuck me--”

 

“Tell me you want to take his cock,” Kylo said.

 

“I want to take this man's cock, Ren.” For a moment, the familiar edge of annoyance hardened Hux's voice—but he was still out of breath, still barely coherent enough to speak. “I want to take it as deep as he can give it to me, and I want to take it _now--_ ”

 

“Don't get ahead of yourself, General,” Kylo replied. “Greedy little sluts need to _ask_ before I let them take lowly Stormtroopers' cocks all the way up their skinny little asses.” He had to keep talking, had to keep his mind on something beside the overwhelming need to reach beneath his robes and start touching himself. “They have to ask, in that wretched, broken little voice, for me to let them get fucked.”

 

Hux whined in frustration, pressing his ass up against the length of the Stormtrooper's (admittedly impressive) cock. The scar-faced man appeared to be perfectly fine watching the General squirm in frustration beneath him, ready and willing and _needing_ to take that shaft deep inside him.

 

“Please,” Hux said, his voice strained with need. “Please, Ren—please, let me take this man's cock.”

 

Kylo drew in a shuddering breath. He had not realized how _broken_ Hux could sound, how completely drained of dignity and control.

 

“Please,” he repeated, sounding almost like he was on the verge of tears. “Please, Ren, let him fuck me—please—you're being _cruel--”_

_“_ You may take the head of his cock in your ass,” Kylo growled, “and then you will fuck the head of his cock until I tell you to take the whole shaft.”

 

A wave of relief pulsated out from Hux's mind; he shifted his hips so the tip of the Stormtrooper's cock was pressing into his asshole. He worked his hips backward just enough so he was taking the head of the man's cock, just as instructed.

 

Kylo's breath grew heavy and jagged as he watched Hux squirm, barely taking the cock he wanted so badly.

 

“Like this?” he groaned quietly, his voice muffled by Kylo's neck.

 

“That's good,” Kylo said, running his hand up and down Hux's spine again. “That's good—is he thick enough for you?” he asked. “Do you like the way he makes you feel?”

 

“I want him to fill me,” Hux said. “I'm sorry, Ren, I need him, I need all of his cock, I don't care—I'm sorry--”

 

“You like getting fucked by strange men?” Kylo asked. “You like being debased like this, made into some nameless fuckhole?”

 

“I need it,” Hux whined. “I need it, Ren—it's so _big_ , and he can fuck me so _deep_ \--”

 

“Of course he can,” Kylo said. He could feel himself dripping, making his shorts sticky against his rigid cock. “He can fuck you until you scream. Should I let him?”

 

“Please, Ren,” Hux said. “ _Please_ , please, just let him fuck me—I need it—I need him to fuck me, please, please let him just fuck me with his whole cock--”

 

Kylo looked up at the Stormtrooper, inclined his head to one side. Hux cried out as the big man slammed his entire cock into his ass, over and over again, thrusting so hard it was difficult for Kylo to keep his grip on the General.

 

 _You're just like them, aren't you?_ His thoughts felt like acid on his mind. _You're just like one of these depraved, addle-brained wretches, fucking in filth in front of everybody. Just like them, you could--_

 

Kylo was distracted by a scream from near the bar. He stood up, his arousal suddenly dampened by the sight of Phasma beating the absolute Force out of a deck officer who had apparently tried to get a penis near her.

 

He threw the man back using the power of the Force even before he managed to run over to the altercation.

 

 _Of course_ , he thought. _The moment you are needed, you are distracted by your own perversion. Typical Kylo Ren_ , he thought. _More useful as a chair to be fucked on than a guard for valuable personnel._  

 

Kylo had already opened his mouth to say something by the time he turned back to face Captain Phasma. She had already returned her attentions to the thick, upright nipples of one Major Jokovik of the bridge crew.

 

 _You are useless here_ , he thought to himself, the words rising out of his innermost brain like mental vomit. _Useless_ , he thought, _useless useless useless--_

 

He looked to where he'd thrown the man, a Stormtrooper judging by his height and by his build.  He appeared to be uninjured; he was sitting up, half-crouched with a confused frown on his heavy face. He kept blinking as if the light were too bright, and perhaps Kylo had thrown him hard enough to concuss him.

 

Kylo reached out with the Force—the man's thoughts felt normal, healthy enough, but sluggish. Very sluggish, and dominated by a sense of exhaustion that Kylo seldom detected in people besides himself.

 

As Kylo watched, the man reached down to stroke his thick, wet cock. His eyes were wide and unfocused; Kylo picked up a sense of need, a sense of vague satisfaction. But, again, the weight of exhaustion hung like a wet towel over the Stormtrooper's feelings. He lay back, his fingers playing lazily with his own swollen member. He seemed to be drifting off toward sleep. Could they sleep under the chemical's influence?

 

As he looked around the dimly-lit rec room, Kylo reached out gently to the minds of the people within it. He wasn't just imagining things, he confirmed. The people exposed to the chemical agent were starting to become tired, starting to slow their coital frenzy. Phasma had not warned him about this.

 

Kylo began moving toward Hux again. He was still lying ass-up across the armchair, his body slick with sweat and cum but unmolested for the first time in what had to be an hour or two.

 

“General,” Kylo said, putting one hand on his shoulder.

 

It took Hux a moment to react, to look up at Kylo with his eyes half-lidded and his jaw slackened from exhaustion.

 

“Ren.” He blinked, looked Kylo up and down. “You left.”

 

“There was a fight,” said Kylo. “I needed to intervene.”

 

Hux did not respond, except by rolling over to his back and shutting his eyes. Kylo glared at him, lying there with his body limp and his cock still swollen stiff.

 

“Are there sleeping quarters aboard this ship?” Kylo asked.

 

“Mm.” Hux opened one eye. “A hallway,” he said. “Down the hallway.”

 

Kylo glanced behind him, to check on Phasma. She was sitting with her back against the bar, now, stroking Unamo's hair as the deck officer laid her head in her lap. Maybe half a dozen women had accumulated in a pile around her, in varying states of exhaustion. A couple were still attempting to fuck each other half-heartedly; most were settling in around each other's bodies, too tired for any activity more strenuous than nuzzling and cooing.

 

“You're filthy,” Kylo said. _He's been ruined_ , he thought to himself. _Every officer and Stormtrooper who's ever had a passing dirty thought about the General has gotten to fulfill their wildest dreams—and at whose expense?_

 

He was filthy, and as Kylo took Hux in his arms he knew he was defiling himself, too. Shame rose in the pit of his belly even as he felt his cock stiffen again beneath his clothes. _It thrills you_ , he thought to himself, _It thrills you to see your lover defiled by so many lesser creatures. It thrills you to think that you yourself have shared in his debasement._  

 

Kylo knew it was true, he did. He knew there was something in him that longed for this exact kind of humiliation. He relished the shame that he and Hux shared now; it made him hard, made him long to gratify himself as mindlessly as the pollen-addled soldiers he was leaving behind them in the rec room.

 

The sleeping quarters Hux had referred to were a sparse, chilly crew dormitory, with an open fresher area at one end and a shared kitchen at the other. Nothing had been touched in years; dust had settled on the rows of bunks bolted to the walls.

 

Kylo carried Hux to the showers – three sonic spigot heads set into a durasteel wall, with a long slot drain in the corner between the wall and the tilted floor. He set Hux down beneath one of the showerheads and turned it on. The water sputtered at first and came out cold, which was probably for the best. It at least roused the General enough that he sat up and glared at the floor while he scrubbed himself off as best he could with his hands.

 

A set of dingy gray towels still hung from a rack on the wall; Kylo tossed one to Hux and watched as he stood and dried himself off.

 

When he was done, he stood there for a moment, staring at Kylo with his mouth open as if he were about to say something. He kept blinking, as if someone were shining a bright light directly in his eyes. His cock was still rigid, now dripping precum from the stimulation of the towel against the sensitive skin.

“There are beds,” Kylo said, pointing toward the triple-high rows of bunks. “Since your stamina has failed you.”

 

Hux looked at him. He nodded. Slowly, carefully, as if unsure of his balance, Hux walked over to the bunks and sat down on one of the bottommost ones. The sight made Kylo eager, made him clench his hands into fists at his sides. Hux was still his. After all this, he was still Kylo's, and Kylo could still take what he wanted.

 

Again, Hux opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten what it was.

 

Kylo walked toward him, and Hux lay down across the cot. By the time Kylo sat down beside him, his eyes were shut and his jaw was slack—Kylo barely had to reach out with the Force to perceive that the smaller man was fast asleep.

 

He always looked so small like this, so fragile—and peaceful, in a way that was almost disturbing when you thought about the anger that fueled the General in his waking moments. Kylo removed one of his gloves, extended his arm to stroke Hux's shoulder.

 

His fingers trailed down Hux's pale, slender arm, his nerves memorizing every curve and rise and dimple of the man's pale flesh. They intertwined for a moment with Hux's fingers; for a moment, Kylo wondered what kind of world they would have to live in before they would ever make this gesture sober, waking.

 

Something within Kylo wanted to caress Hux gently, wanted to curl up beside him and shelter him and comfort him when he woke to whatever memories he had retained. Something within him wanted to protect this furious, fragile creature who was so like him and yet so alien, to safeguard him and to understand him and to offer him something he'd never had before—whatever that might be.

 

But there was something else within Kylo, too—something stronger. Something that looked at Hux and bloomed with an intoxicating, prideful mix of rage and lust. Something that looked at Hux and thought, _That is Mine._

 

It was that stronger feeling that animated Kylo as he loosened his robes, unbuckled his braces, finally freed his cock from his clothes. It was that stronger feeling that pulled Hux close to him, though the General did not stir or wake as he did.

 

 _That is Mine_ , Kylo thought, and Kylo twined his fingers with Hux's once again—but this time, it was to manipulate the smaller man's hand, to curl it within his own. The General, in his waking hours, was not a man to stroke his lover, to touch the cock he was always so happy to take quietly up his tight little ass in the dark of the night.

 

No, Kylo thought as he used Hux's hand as he would a synthetic plaything—no, this would likely be a one-time favor, and one to be blamed on his exposure to the alien pollen. Hux would wake, and he would cope (or he would fail to cope), and he would put all this behind him (or it would drive him mad).

 

But Kylo would know. Kylo would know, _This is Mine_ , and Hux could deny the truth to himself all he wanted, and Kylo would still know, he would still know, _This is Mine._

 

The words echoed so loudly in his head as he came that he thought he might have said them aloud. For a moment, he sat on the bunk panting, one hand supporting his weight and the other clamping Hux's limp hand around his stiff cock.

 

In his lap, Hux made a small, soft sound—a smile crossed his lips for a moment, but Kylo could detect no recognition. He still didn't know where he was, what he was doing; all he knew was that he still wanted someone to fuck him. Anyone. Anyone at all.

 

Kylo shoved the General onto the bunk and stood up, pulling his shorts back up over his softening cock. He should go check on Phasma, he told himself. There was nothing for him in here.

**Author's Note:**

> cw: sex pollen, dubcon, noncon handjob 
> 
> A bunch of FO personnel get doused with sex pollen. Kylo wasn't compromised, but now he has to babysit an orgy. Which means watching his totally-not-boyfriend fuck and get fucked, hopelessly turned on and unable to act on it. He gradually realizes, through spikes of jealousy and possessive rage, that he might actually -- ugh -- love Hux.
> 
> \+ extra bitterness because Hux is a normally quiet lay, but is moaning like a champ now, the traitor  
> ++ there are bridge crew in there. Kylo now has to wonder if they are competition, and how mad Hux would be if he took out his command staff in a fit of pique.  
> +++ after desperation, overstimulation, and sheer exhaustion loosens his inhibitions, Hux starts crying out for Ren. Which is-- too much.  
> +++++ Kylo can't take off his helmet or really touch him, but he wades in there and grabs Hux, holds him steady while he's getting pounded stupid.  
> ++ Affectionate, spiteful dirty talk through the vocoder. Soothing him with gentle strokes and cooing maliciously about what an awful slut he is, how no one is going to respect him after this, looking so used. How wretched and pathetic he sounds, half sobbing with need against Kylo's throat.  
> ++ after it's over, taking Hux back to his quarters to clean him up.  
> \+ using Hux's hand to jerk himself off while Hux is still out of it.


End file.
